The Ring
by Fellowshipper
Summary: Cyclops tries to do one thing for Jean, and the whole mansion falls apart.
1. Part One: Thief!

**Title**: The Ring 

**Rating**: G

**Continuance**: This was when my personal fave X-Men lineup existed, the one that existed just before the AoA timeline, so quite a few of the X-Men make appearances in this one, including a rather disgruntled Psylocke. *g*

**Notes**: This turned out to be a bit longer than I'd expected, so I divided it into two different parts for easier reading. :)

**Disclaimer**: I'm not making any money off this, though I wish I was, so Marvel...guys, don't sue me. I'm broke anyway. 

******

Scott Summers looked over at his wife, smiling to himself. She lay sprawled out on the bed, her body askew in a way completely contrasting her normally graceful presence. Fiery red hair fell into her face, causing her eyelids to flutter. Scott sighed quietly, wondering how he had gotten so lucky. 

He loved her so very much, had since the first time he had seen her. That had been the point of no return for him, when he had realized that there was no turning back, for he was inexorably bound to her. Though he could try to tell her in words, he could never fully express how deep his feelings ran for her. 

That was why he was stealing her wedding ring. 

He felt a bit guilty, stealing from his unconscious paramour, but seeing that their anniversary was upcoming and he felt the need to do something special, he had decided to take her ring and have it engraved and redone with more features. And besides, all he would have to do would be to take the ring to the jewelry store, wait around an hour or two and pray Jean didn't discover it was missing, then retrieve it and give it back to her. That gave him about three hours. Three very long hours with a very skilled telepath. 

Scott suddenly grew worried. 

Had she been the White Queen or Psylocke, upon finding her ring was nowhere in sight and knowing her husband was behind it, she would have simply pried the information directly from his mind without a second thought. But this was Jean! She wasn't like most other telepaths, relying on her formidable talent to gain knowledge. She could be rational. She could talk. 

Scott was hoping. 

Walking from the boathouse, he bounced the white gold and diamond ring in his palm, frowning down at it as he did so. It was simple enough, with only a thin band and a small diamond encased on the top. Jean had insisted that it should be simple, citing her reason as being the ring wasn't important. Scott had other things in mind, and so had went against her wishes by making the ring a bit fancier, more up to the standards of a woman like Jean Grey-Summers. 

Scott walked into the mansion's kitchen, not at all surprised to find Betsy and Gambit arguing over what would be made for breakfast. Every morning was like that. If it wasn't them, Bobby and Jean were fighting. Scott's brow creased slightly as he remembered the time Jubilee had thrown an egg right at Bobby's head when she had been trying to get his attention. That had started a full-blown war between the two, three when Beast had attempted to play peacekeeper and eventually joined himself. It had always caused quite a mess. 

"Gambit, as ... interesting as your idea of breakfast may be, I'm sure they'd rather have pancakes." 

"But dey have pancakes every day! Dese people need t'live a little," Remy protested with all the might of a pouting child. Betsy stared at him. 

"You don't think battling intergalactic beings and psychotic, power-hungry mutants and mutant-hating humans is enough living?" 

"I didn't mean dat, I just meant-"

"Don't you think these people would like something more stable?" 

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Good. Pancakes it is." 

"You can't cook!" Remy threw out his last comment, wincing as Betsy whirled on her heel, an as-yet unused spoon in her right hand, which Remy noticed with a bit of aprehension was glowing with a faint pink aura. 

"I can cook just as well as anyone else, Gambit. And I can certainly cook better than you!" 

Remy fell back a step, hand over his heart. "You wound me, chere." 

"I will, if you don't leave me alone!" Betsy threatened, waving the spoon in the air. Remy nodded slowly and backed away, slumping down into a chair and gesturing for Scott to join him. The X-Men leader did so and stared at the disheartened Cajun. 

"What exactly were you wanting to cook?" 

"Somethin' besides pancakes for once, but Ms. Braddock didn't see fit for dat," Remy replied sullenly, arms folded stubbornly across his chest. "It's not my fault if my artistic views are different from hers. She didn't have to get snippy wit' me." 

Betsy turned, the aura around her hand glowing a bit brighter. Remy smiled innocently at her, then looked back to Scott. 

"So. What've ya got dere?" He asked with a pointed look to Scott's loosely closed palm. Scott followed the younger man's gaze, then shrugged, opening his hand to reveal the small ring. 

"Jean's wedding ring. I'm taking it to the jeweler to have it detailed." 

Remy nodded to himself, then scratched at his eyebrow. "All in secret, eh?" Scott nodded. "An' you're hopin' t'hide from a telepath how…?" 

"Well, see, I haven't quite figured that part out yet." 

"'Course not," Remy mused with a smirk, ducking back down into his seat slightly when Betsy turned her piercing gaze back to him. 

"Just like you to start butting in where you're not wanted." 

"Aw, cool off, 'Lisabeth. You got what ya wanted. You wanted t'make boring ol' pancakes, now leave me alone." 

Betsy gave a satisfactory smile then turned back to the stove. Remy made a distinctly rude gesture behind her back, instincts telling him to dodge the pepper shaker he knew the woman would throw at him. It connected with the wall behind him instead of his head, and he directed his attention to the X-Men leader across from him. 

"I'd love t'stay an' chat, Cyke, but Betsy's apparently decided for me dat I ain' goin' to. Adieu." He rose to his feet and then bowed grandly for a still-angered Psylocke. The knife formed in her fist again, and Remy held his hands up in defense and backed out of the kitchen. Scott's brow narrowed. With any luck, those two would kill each other and present Jean with more pressing matters to deal with other than her missing wedding ring. 

  
  


Scott stood outside the jewelry shop, nervously cracking his knuckles. He had a sudden, sinking feeling that Jean would be angry at him for stealing her ring and having it altered without her permission. Shaking his head, he took a firm step inside the building. He was not her lapdog. He could do what he wished. 

Unfortunately for him, he was nowhere near as confident as his mind was telling him to be. 

The store was small and quiet, polished cases showing off shining diamonds and gold. Two men stood in the back, one watching a small television and the other flipping through an old copy of News Week with a bored expression on his face. 

Scott cleared his throat. "Um… Excuse me, but I was wondering if I could have a ring changed?" 

Startled at the interruption and excited at the idea of having a customer, the man watching TV jumped up and walked around the counter to join Scott. "Hi! Thanks for stopping in. Changed how?" 

"Detailed. It's for my wife." 

"Sure, we can do that," the man nodded eagerly, pulling out a pair of thin glasses from his coat pocket. "Let's have a look at it." 

Scott reached to his back pocket where he had placed the small band, then panicked when it wasn't there. Maybe the other pocket? No, not there either. Jacket? No. Nowhere in sight. Scott began to sweat. 

"Er… Um…" He stumbled for an explanation, patting himself everywhere in desperate hopes of finding the ring, expecting it to magically appear from thin air. When it didn't, he looked up with anxious eyes to the man before him. "You know, I guess it'd help if I found the ring, wouldn't it?" The jeweler, suspecting a trick, nodded slowly. Scott sighed and apologized for the interruption, then walked back to the car to begin a new search. 

When the cushions had been torn apart and the glove compartment nearly stripped, he began to grow angry. Who had he been talking to before he left? A thief. A thief that, more than likely, could pickpocket someone blind while carrying on a discussion about African politics. 

Scott got back into the jeep and moved with barely legal speed back to the mansion. When he walked into the main doors, he could see the procession of hungry mutants going into the kitchen. Gambit was not among them. Scott took the stairs two at a time and walked with quick, long strides down the men's dorm, finding Remy's room at the end of the hallway. The door was closed, and the faint strains of an old blues CD played. 

"Where's the ring?" 

Scott rudely announced himself when he popped his head through the now-open door, trying to search out Remy. He found the younger man sitting on his bed, a magazine spread out before him. 

"Um…Pardon?" 

"The ring. Jean's ring! The one I was showing you earlier!" Scott was growing more frantic by the moment, partly because of the dumbfounded look on the Cajun's face. Remy stared at Scott, blinked, and looked back to the magazine. 

"Dunno, Cyke. If you're implyin' somethin' about me…" 

"I don't have time for these games, Gambit. Now where's the ring?" 

"You tell me. You de one who had it last, y'know." 

Scott was tempted to lift his visor and blast the infuriating man through the wall, but he kept a tight lock on his anger, letting it simmer into something hopefully a little less deadly. Sympathy was good. "Remy, I really need that ring. You don't understand. Jean's going to kill me if she doesn't get it back." 

"As bad as I'd hate t'upset de femme, I can't help ya, Scotty. I don't got a clue where de ring is." Remy looked up, red and black eyes glittering mischievously. "Maybe dat's what you get for stealin' it in de first place, neh?" 

Scott didn't reply, as the sympathy changed back into anger. He spun on his heel and stalked from the room, wracking his brain for any possible idea of where the ring could be. None would come. So he stood in the middle of the hallway, scratching his head helplessly, other hand resting on his hip. 


	2. Part Two: A Solution To The Problem?

**Title**: The Ring

Part Two

**Rating**: G

**Continuance**: This was when my personal fave X-Men lineup existed, the one that existed just before the AoA timeline, so quite a few of the X-Men make appearances in this one, including a rather disgruntled Psylocke. *g*

**Notes**: This turned out to be a bit longer than I'd expected, so I divided it into two different parts for easier reading. :)

**Disclaimer**: I'm not making any money off this, though I wish I was, so Marvel...guys, don't sue me. I'm broke anyway. 

******

Storm walked with light, graceful steps through the plush, green grounds of the Xavier estate, inspecting the various small gardens set up around the house. While bending to tend to a malnourished rose, she noticed something gleaming on the sidewalk off to her side. Drawn to the metallic object with sunlight glinting off it, she picked the ring up and looked curiously at it. 

"Such a beautiful ring," she mused quietly, taking careful note of the green ivy engraved along the band. "It must be Rogue's." 

And off she took into the building to deliver her new finding. 

  
  


"No, Ah don't think that's mine." Rogue turned the ring over for the umpteenth time, wishing with all her might she could tell Storm it was. The woman across from her frowned, a slight line appearing in her forehead. 

"Perhaps Remy meant to give it to you and simply dropped it." 

Rogue stopped turning the ring, looking down at it in interest. "Ya know, ya just may be right." She smiled, slipping the band onto her ring finger and holding it up to admire it. "It really _is_ beautiful..." Storm nodded her silent agreement. "Well, that's had to have been it. Thanks!" 

  
  


Jean yawned as she walked into the kitchen, looking around with bleary eyes at the sight that greeted her. Seemingly the entire Xavier mansion had already beaten her to the kitchen, some of them complimenting Betsy's cooking on fear for their lives, others complaining about it simply because they were insane. The woman in question stood there, hands on hips, with a deep scowl on her face. 

"I've told you, Bobby, that if you think you can do any better, YOU come down here at five in the morning and cook!" 

"Mmm?" Bobby asked, looking up with a mouthful of pancakes. Betsy turned back around in disgust, slamming the spatula repeatedly against the pan as she mixed the batter. Jean coughed and walked into the kitchen without another word, seating herself next to Rogue, who was currently going through an issue of Cosmopolitan and pouring syrup on a stack of pancakes that looked to be enough for three people. 

"Better be careful, Rogue. Have to watch that girlish figure." 

Rogue looked up, eyes narrowed as she pointed the syrup bottle at Bobby. "Another word, Drake, an' you're gettin' a meeting with Aunt Jemima!"

Bobby held up his hands, scooting closer to Beast just incase Rogue should happen to think again about nailing him. Hank looked up, a mug of coffee still at his mouth, and then looked down at Bobby. 

"May I help you somehow, comrade mine?" 

"You're my shield, Blue." 

"Hardly. You know how hard maple syrup is to get out of fur. Leave. Go. Now." 

Bobby sighed, scooting his chair back over and leaning dejectedly over his breakfast. Jean stifled a grin as she accepted the mug of coffee Warren poured for her just before seating himself beside her. Rogue turned then, showing off the glittering ring on her finger. 

"Isn't it beautiful?" She bragged, sweeping a strand of auburn hair from her eyes. "Remy got it for me." 

Warren raised his eyebrows. "Looks awfully familiar." 

Jean's eyes widened at the sight, then immediately narrowed. "That's because it is! That's mine!" 

"Huh?" Rogue was mystified at the statement until she took a closer look at the object, finding the words inscribed on the inside of it, reading them aloud. "Jean- all my love. Scott." She huffed. "That rat." 

Jean promptly took her ring back and stood, coffee forgotten. "I think Remy and I are going to have to have a little chat." 

  
  


Jean stood just outside Remy's door, knocking loudly to be heard over the CD playing inside. Was that...Nirvana? She shook her head, telling herself she cared nothing for her teammate's music interests. At last the door was open, and she stalked inside without waiting for an invitation. 

"Would you like to explain this to me?" She asked angrily, holding up her ring. Remy stared at her, bewildered. 

"Um...Non?" 

"Don't play dumb with me." 

"Who said I'm playin'?" He asked with a nervous grin, hoping with all his might that Jean wouldn't flip out and mind-wipe him. Her green eyes narrowed, causing him to back against the door. She walked towards him. 

"Let's sort some things out, Remy. This is _my _wedding ring, which you so blatantly stole after sneaking into _my_ house, to give to _your_ girlfriend!" Remy's mouth opened to defend himself, but he was quickly silenced by the look on the woman's face. "I don't want to hear whatever excuse you might have. Just let it be known that if it happens again, we'll have another little talk, and I won't be quite so friendly." She stepped back, readjusted her ring, then walked from the room to leave a very confused Cajun in her midst. 

She walked downstairs and was about to exit through the main doors when Warren came up to her, eyes wild. "Um... Jean?" 

"Yes?" 

"Do you think sometime today, if you get the chance, you could talk to Betts? Something's bothering her, and she won't talk to me. I tried, and... well..." He gestured to the still-visible parts of dough in his hair. "She threw a half-made pancake at me." 

"Ah. Well, I'll try later. Right now, I can see it's going to be one of those days. Rather than suffer through it, I've decided to go back to bed." 

"Sounds like a good idea." 

Jean nodded and patted Warren's arm sympathetically as she noticed Betsy trying to locate him. He whimpered, watching as Jean walked from the building and went back to the boathouse. 

  
  


Scott stood just outside the door to his current home, hand rubbing his forehead. How was he supposed to go in there and face Jean and tell her he had lost her very-much treasured ring. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and walked inside, surprised to find his wife was still asleep on the bed. He moved to her side, smiling sadly down at her, since he was fairly certain he wouldn't live to see her later. 

That was when he noticed the ring on the bedside table. 

"I thought I put that in my pocket!" He exclaimed quietly, picking the ring up and inspecting it. Sure enough, it was the very same one. He smiled and tucked it safely away in the back pocket of his jeans, then bent to press a kiss to Jean's forehead. "See? I can do some things right. I didn't lose it," he whispered, turning and walking out of the building again. 

An hour later, Jean rolled over and then sat up, stretching and yawning, glad to have gotten a decent amount of rest for once. The clock read 10:30, and she blinked, surprised she had slept in that late. 

As she did every morning, she reached over to grab her wedding ring and slide it on her finger. It wasn't there. Again. Her eyes turned to cat-eye slits as she thought of where it could have been. 

  
  


Scott whistled as he walked through the kitchen to get to the back door, proud that he had managed to get the ring in and out of the house without cause and hoping to make it back to the boathouse unnoticed. Unfortunately for him, Betsy was standing there with a pile of dishes around her and a pan full of uneaten pancakes. 

"They insulted my cooking." 

"Er... Sorry." 

"I worked and slaved over these stupid things from five A.M. 'til they all started coming in, and did I get even *one* thank you? No! I didn't!" She picked one of the uneaten ones up and shoved it in a very shocked Scott's mouth. "There. Have a pancake." 

Scott took a bite off it and chewed it, watching the ninja telepath with no small amount of nervousness as he did so. "Are those...blueberries?" 

Betsy turned, eyes wide. "No! They're supposed to be chocolate chips!" 

Scott coughed and smiled. "Oh, well, I knew that. See..." He never had a chance to finish his excuse, however, as he heard a loud thud upstairs, then someone that sounded suspiciously like Jean screaming at the top of her lungs. Sighing, he tossed the rest of the pancake in the garbage when Betsy wasn't watching, then headed upstairs to investigate. 

Remy hung upside down, pinned against the wall and suspended in mid-air by an inpenetrable blue field, all of which was Jean's doing. She stared levelly at him, arms folded across her chest. 

"I'll give you one more chance, Gambit. Tell me where my wedding ring is, or I'll pry the information out of you -- one limb at a time, if need be." 

Remy gulped. "But I don' know where it is, Jeannie, honest!" 

"I don't believe you." 

Scott came through the door in that moment, watching the scene take place, holding the small velvet black box in his palm. Remy's eyes widened at the sight, but as soon as he tried to speak he was stopped yet again by Jean. 

"Stop. Unless you're going to tell me where my ring is, I don't want to hear it." 

"Hi, honey." Scott, though confused at the scene, beamed at the thought he had snuck the ring out from under Jean's nose. His wife didn't turn. 

"Not now, Scott." 

"But..." 

"No. I'm trying to make our thieving teammate here tell me exactly what happened with my wedding ring." 

"I feel dizzy," Remy whined quietly, watching the world spin and dip around him. Scott noticed how the Cajun's face had turned an interesting shade of purple, then tapped Jean's shoulder. 

"Honey, maybe you should put him down?" 

"He *will* tell me what happened to my ring, or at least who has it. I can promise you this much, though. Whoever stole it is going to have to deal with me. I don't take kindly to people stealing my belongings." 

Scott gulped, then shrugged helplessly at Remy as he shoved the ring in his jacket pocket. 

Jean finally released Remy, dropping him to the floor after his face had started to turn blue, then turned around to smile sweetly at her husband. "Did you want something, dear?" 

"Um...I just wanted to see you," Scott offered a shaky smile. Jean kissed his cheek. 

"That's sweet." 

Scott nodded and backed out of the room, rushing down the hallway before either Jean or Remy killed him. When he got back to the boathouse, he set the ring down on Jean's bedside table, sighing a heavy breath of relief that he might still live to see another day. 


End file.
